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Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Comes a Time

I have quaked before danger
And survived.
Each trembling moment
Fashioned in my breast
A fierceness
A resolve
That is untaught.

Comes a time
When danger darkens
My sill.
I greet it
As an old friend.

I know the bitter root
The sulfur
The tang
And heartbreak
Of fear.
I steep it as tea
Strong
Black and unsweetened.
By simple grit
I drink its dregs
Without shying.

Comes a time
A man laces his boots
And walks to face his enemy
In open country.

Comes a time
Going out
Doesn’t mean
Coming back.

But it’s the going out
That makes the man.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

http://shareably.net/officer-comforts-boy-with-autism-who-may-have-been-suicidal-v1/?utm_source=sm21&utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=inspiring (with thanks to you/a good man/sir, Scot H. & never cease to write!)

The Dashboard Poet said...

Thank you, Scott. Writing has been difficult. Going thru a stormy patch. But I will quit when I die. Maybe.~~ James